


Thirteen Years

by oneatatime



Category: Tokumei Sentai Go-Busters
Genre: M/M, spoilers for the finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 19:17:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20698544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneatatime/pseuds/oneatatime
Summary: "Got some end of the world scenario that needs the help of the brilliant young engineer, Jin Masato?"





	Thirteen Years

**Author's Note:**

  * For [borrowedphrases](https://archiveofourown.org/users/borrowedphrases/gifts).

Everything had changed in the last thirteen years.

Kuroki yawned as he made his way along the corridor, absently noting a busted emergency light to report in the morning. It was late, and he really should get home. Try to get at least six hours of sleep before he came back again for an early meeting with the department heads. He had to check on the Busters later, too. 

He didn’t know what it was that brought his feet to a certain laboratory door. It was locked, of course, but he had his master override, so he keyed it in. The keypad made its usual bloops and bleeps.

The room was dusty. He wrinkled his nose as he hoisted a hip onto the edge of a desk, and waited.

It wasn’t long before a familiar figure came bustling out from the back room. Seemed like an age since he’d seen him. The usual white and gold jacket over far too tight jeans. Like he was thirteen years younger. 

“Jin,” he said, and in spite of his exhaustion, he felt the corners of his mouth turn up just a little.

“Ku-ro-rin,” Jin sing-songed back at him. “What brings you here?”

Kuroki dragged a finger in the dust on the desk next to his behind, and held it up to show Jin. His fingertip was grey with dust “It’s not to do your cleaning, that’s for sure.”

Jin made a face at him, and reached out to poke him in the cheek. Kuroki allowed it, for now. “Not my fault if Ryuuji isn’t around as much as he used to be! He’s busier now.”

“You could clean up after yourself.”

“I could also study breakdancing,” Jin agreed glibly, sauntering off to pick up a handheld device of some sort. "What brings you here tonight? Can't sleep? Got some end of the world scenario that needs the help of the brilliant young engineer, Jin Masato?" 

"Something like that. I have a scheduling conflict that keeps occurring on my personal calendar. Think you can take a look?" 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket. 

"Yoink!" Jin grabbed it out of his hand. 

"Don't you need me to-"

No. He obviously didn't. He already had the calendar app open. He whipped out a cord from somewhere and plugged the phone into his handheld, placing the phone on the desk while he worked. Kuroki looked down at his screen, which was filling with streams of incomprehensible numbers in green and black. 

"You worried about me seeing your Pokemon?" Jin asked cheerfully. "I can help you with your team, y'know." 

Kuroki sighed, and wandered over to the corner. The vending machines here dispensed terrible excuses for coffee, but at least the thick black tar helped one stay relatively conscious for a while. He came back sipping a cup of it. 

"Nearly done?" 

"Sure. Just one question." 

Still tapping at his handheld, Jin turned the gentlest expression on him that Kuroki'd ever seen in his life, and his heart seized for a moment. He raised an eyebrow, keeping his face as blank as he could. "Yes?" 

"When did I die?" 

...

Kuroki exhaled shakily, turning away for the moment. He took another steadying sip of the horrible sludge. "How'd you know?"

"My data tells me I haven't been switched on for some years, and the real me would've been in here tinkering with me - that doesn't make any sense, but you know what I mean. You're older, you haven't slept, but you're not dead, so Vaglass didn't win. Which means I sacrificed myself, right?" 

"...right." 

Kuroki looked up at the ceiling, telling himself that he could handle this. This had been a stupid idea anyway. Born of nostalgia. Jin was gone; it wasn't like he hadn't confronted that fact every single morning, every single night, in the thirteen years since it'd happened. It wasn't like he could even sleep on Jin's side of the bed. 

Well. That wasn't quite true.

"Always the hero," Jin said lightly, but it was too good a copy. Kuroki could hear the worry, and the pain, underneath. 

"I, uh, I woke up this morning on your side of the bed." 

He hadn't cursed himself for it. Hadn't hated himself. It was logical. It'd been a long time. 

"Ah."

Two hands slid around him from behind (he must've put the phone and the handheld down), and there was a pointy chin on his shoulder. Jin took the coffee from him, and placed it on the closest table. Then he helped Kuroki turn in his arms, and he helped Kuroki wrap his arms around him, and he held Kuroki while he shook. 

"I'm sorry," Kuroki whispered at last, from the doorway. 

"Come back any time."

Everything had changed in the last thirteen years, since they won against Vaglass. 

Everything.

Kuroki went home, to bed.


End file.
